Chapter 115: Golden Fortune City XXI
Rhys became a streak of radiance, his form devoured by the storm of light, water, and shadow that wrapped around him like a comet. The blade in his hands—no longer just steel, no longer just magic—sang with the resonance of two souls beating as one.
The plaza cracked open in his wake. Cobblestones shattered, molten rivers hissed into steam, and even the chains that bound the husks recoiled as if in fear.
The Commander’s greatsword reached its apex—
[ Cataclysm Brand – 99% Charged ]
—and Rhys struck.
The Ruinous Darkness Blade met molten steel, not as weapon against weapon, but as worlds colliding. The impact split the air with a deafening boom, shockwaves tearing the plaza into jagged shards. The HUD of every player in range blared warnings—structural collapse imminent, overload detected—before shorting into static.
For a moment, there was no city, no Legion, no raid. Only light and dark and pressure beyond measure.
Then the resonance detonated.
Aetherion Break unleashed itself, not as a slash, but as a cataclysm of its own. A torrent of liquid starlight and crushing abyss surged outward, water crashing like tidal waves, light spearing down like a hundred falling suns, shadow binding the fire and dragging it into implosion.
The Commander’s body convulsed. The molten cracks along his frame burst open, geysers of fire and ichor spraying into the sky before being swallowed by the maelstrom. His greatsword shattered mid-swing, fragments of obsidian screaming as they were carried into the blast.
[ Boss Ultimate – Cataclysm Brand: Interrupted ]
The raid’s HUD flickered back online, one line of text flashing bright:
[ Boss HP –35% ]
The obsidian knight was slammed into the far wall of the plaza, stone and flame exploding around him. His health bar plummeted, nearly scraping into the red.
For one second—one blessed second—the battlefield was silent.
Then the plaza erupted in a chorus of disbelief and triumph.
"HE STOPPED IT!"
"THE BOSS IS STUNNED—NOW, FINISH IT!"
The Commander’s stagger timer appeared over his head.
[ Status: Weakened – 20 seconds ]
Every player surged forward, desperate to pour the last of themselves into the crack Rhys had opened. The Rune Sniper, bow trembling, loosed his final [Starseeker Arrow]. The Frost Dancer blurred into motion, blades scattering frost petals across the knight’s exposed core. The Summoner gave her last breath to ignite the tempest into one final explosion, blanketing the husks in a storm of flame and ash.
And Rhys—he raised the blade again, Puddle’s pulse in his chest steadying his own faltering heartbeat.
The Commander was falling.
But whether he would die—or rise again in something worse—depended on what came next.
The plaza became an orchestra of ultimates, every class throwing their last cards into the fire.
The Rune Sniper screamed, veins glowing as runes branded into his flesh. He drew back his bow one final time, the string a line of molten light. "[Heavenpiercer — Final Arc]!" The arrow shot skyward before splitting into a constellation of blazing bolts that rained down, hammering into the Commander’s cracked armor like judgment itself.
The Frost Dancer spun, her body a blur of glass and ice. "Lotus Bloom — Eternal Winter!" Petals of frost scattered like stars, each one embedding into the knight’s body before detonating, freezing molten ichor solid.
The Summoner collapsed, her life tethering to her Eidolon. "Ashen Requiem!" The phoenix screamed, bursting apart into a supernova of cinders. The explosion tore through the elites, vaporizing the front ranks and lacing the Commander’s chest with molten scars.
The Vanguard Knight stomped forward, shield glowing with the aura of mountains. "Bulwark of the Last Dawn!" His shield slammed into the Commander’s chest like a meteor, pinning the obsidian knight down as cracks spiderwebbed deeper across his core.
Even the Warlock, coughing blood, forced his arms upward. His voice shredded as he roared: "Oblivion Gate!" A tear in the sky opened, black tendrils dragging at the Commander, siphoning away the stolen strength of his Legion.
Every ultimate slammed into the staggered knight, a chorus of defiance that lit the plaza brighter than the sun.
And through it all—Rhys stood at the center, blade lifted. Puddle’s pulse resonated through him, the slime’s aura expanding into halos of light and rings of shadow. Water coiled along the blade’s edge, so dense it hummed like thunder.
"Now, Rhys," Puddle whispered inside his chest. "The last strike—ours alone."
Rhys exhaled. His body screamed. His soul burned. But his grip was steady.
The Ruinous Darkness Blade thrummed, its runes flaring alive, no longer just cursed etchings—now a covenant.
[ Soul Resonance – Limit Break ]
"[Eclipsing Aether Divide]!"
He vanished.
When he reappeared, it was mid-swing. The blade carved a luminous arc across the Commander’s body, cleaving through molten plate, shadow-forged bone, and stolen souls alike. The cut did not stop—it stretched into the heavens, splitting sky and storm apart in a streak of impossible light.
The Commander’s roar broke into static, the molten glow in his chest erupting outward as his body split in two. Chains shattered, husks froze mid-motion, the Legion’s chant died with a whisper.
The system text burned across every HUD:
[ Raid Boss Defeated – Legion Commander of the Undying ]
[ Rewards Distributed ]
But of course it was not the end, as it is an endless monster wave event.
The plaza had become a crucible.
Wave after wave crashed through the sundered gates, each one stronger, faster, and crueler than the last. What had begun as scattered husks had turned into battalions, their burning helms and rusted blades blurring together in the storm of steel.
Yet the city did not break.
Everywhere, players rose to meet the tide.
A Rune Sniper on the eastern wall leapt onto a parapet, her bow a streak of light as she loosed a triple-charged [Piercing Starshot]. The arrow tore through a dozen husks, detonating in a chain of explosions that painted the sky silver. The crowd roared her name, guildmates forming a shield wall to cover her cooldown.
On the western bridge, a Warshaper transformed his body into molten armor, his fists slamming into the cobbles like hammers. Each strike sent magma pillars spearing upward, scattering husks like brittle dolls.
At the central fountain, a nameless cleric broke her staff in half and knelt, chanting. Wings of stained glass burst from her back, bathing hundreds in a flood of green light. HP bars surged back from the brink—players who had already begun their death-animations blinked, alive again.
[ Wave 37 Cleared ][ Rewards Multiplier Increased ]
The notifications rolled like thunder, but no one had time to savor them. The next wave had already begun.
–––
By Wave 42, the monsters were no longer mindless husks. Armored Wights marched in ranks, shield and blade gleaming with cursed steel. Behind them came War-Banshees, shrieking with voices that cracked stone and rattled bones.
"Lv. 380—watch your aggro!" someone shouted.
Rhys staggered through the chaos, his sword arm numb. His HUD flickered:Mana: 9%.Stamina: 3%.Soul Fusion: Critical strain.
Puddle pulsed weakly in his chest, still weaving streams of water and light whenever it could, but its aura was faltering. Even with [Absorb], Rhys’s body was slowing, too many wounds layering together.
Still, he swung. A [Swift Cut] severed a Wight’s helm, his blade dripping with steam where water and fire had fused. A [Magic Missile] cracked a banshee’s skull mid-scream. His lungs burned, vision dim, but he fought on.
All around him, stronger players took the spotlight.
A Bladeking dashed through twenty husks in a single breath, his afterimages slicing them apart like paper. A Stormcaller stood atop a rooftop, summoning bolts of chained lightning that scorched entire ranks to ash. Guild banners waved proudly where formations held, the names of top clans blazing in the air above their members.
[ Wave 45 Cleared ][ Rewards Multiplier Increased ]
The roar of triumph barely lasted a heartbeat before the earth split again.
A shadow surged upward, bound in chains that cracked like whips. Its molten eyes locked onto the crowd.
[ Abyssal Legion Beast – Lv. 412 ][ Catastrophe-Class Monster ]
The air itself buckled under its presence. Weaker players crumpled instantly, HP bars draining just from the aura.
Rhys tried to raise his blade. His arms shook. Mana: 0%.The beast’s claw descended.
He caught it on his sword—barely. For an instant, light flared, Puddle’s glow straining with his own. But the pressure crushed down. Steel screamed. Bones snapped.
[ Critical Damage Received ][ Player Death Imminent ]
Rhys was hurled across the plaza, chest shattered, blood flooding his lungs. His vision darkened, the system’s message burning cold across it:
[ Death Recorded – Respawn Timer: 00:12:00 ]
The last thing he saw was the Bladeking charging the beast, guild banners rallying, the Stormcaller calling down another storm.
The fight raged on. The waves would not end.And though Rhys fell, the Endless Wave continued—an ocean of monsters, and the legends of those still standing.
Respawn light wrapped around Rhys, dragging him back into the plaza where he had first stepped through the golden gates of Dawn City. The air was still thick with echoes of horns and steel, but here it was quiet—safe.
A chime rang in his HUD.
[ Contribution Recorded ]
[ Monster Kills Tallied → Reward Upgraded ]
[ Fortune Box: Platinum Grade Acquired ]
Dozens of smaller loot boxes—bronze, silver, gold—merged together in his inventory, folding into a single ornate chest. It glowed faintly, inscribed with shifting sigils that read:
[ The Fortune Box gives what the player most needs. ]
Rhys’s hand trembled as he pulled it out. The surface was warm, almost alive, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.